


In The Light

by nachtmaredoll



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Family, Headcanon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-12 09:14:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28757916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nachtmaredoll/pseuds/nachtmaredoll
Summary: After all is said and done, Futaba still has some questions that are in need of answers and so she goes with Iwai as a guard to visit Shido in prison.
Relationships: Isshiki Wakaba & Sakura Futaba, Kurusu Akira & Sakura Futaba, Sakura Futaba & Sakura Sojiro, Sakura Futaba & Shido Masayoshi
Kudos: 6





	1. Sweet But Psycho

**Author's Note:**

> This is a reposting, and reworking (and will be rewritten) of the series "In the Light" that was comprised of "Sweet But Psycho" and "Daddy's Girl". This may eventually be added to past two chapters, but currently I'm not sure.
> 
> With that said, I have the very heavy and strong headcanon that Shido is Futaba's father, and that is the driving point and plot of this fic. 
> 
> \--
> 
> I hope all my lovelies are well and healthy.

It had been two months since they had driven Akira back to his hometown. She refused to think of his ‘parents’ as his family though. Akira was her brother, not in blood, but in everything else that mattered. Sojiro was also the perfect dad. But… things did not feel settled.

That feeling is what led her to hack, research and investigate, looking into her mother’s past—and her own. It had been slow going at first, she’d had to find her uncle first, and while she hadn’t forgiven him: he had given her all of her mother’s things. Things Futaba had long since given up as being lost forever. She had photo albums, books, boxes, her own childhood and baby things, and most importantly: her mother’s electronics that hadn’t been stolen by the government. And it was those that she was the most thankful for, as she was still Alibaba.

Going through everything took a very long time, how old it all was, and being so used to her custom builds. But then, one day in the back room of Untouchable—she was tutoring Kaoru and updating Iwai’s security system—she came across a locked folder hidden and encoded in the photo file location. It took her a few minutes to figure out her mom’s password to get in, but then she squeaked and fell off her perch. Calling out to Iwai she was fine, she slowly sat back in his chair—and very red in the face—looked at the first photo again. It was a very handsome man, with a devilish smirk, covered by nothing but black sheets, smiling up at whoever's phone was being used to take the picture. Next to him, was her mom. A slightly pregnant mom. Her hair was a bit messy—sex hair Ann called it—and she was smiling up at the camera. She too was wrapped up in the sheet, and looked happy.

She was still staring at the picture when a strong hand came down on the top of her head, and she smelt all the Iwai scents. “What’s got you startled… whoa… uh?”

“It’s my mom’s old tablet. I… I should’ve left the encrypted folder alone… now I’ve been stuck staring at this picture. Knowing that bump is me… and trying very hard not to think of the fact I know that man’s muscles. I…” her voice was cracking and when Iwai turned the screen off, she felt relieved and then relaxed as she got pulled up into his arms. It had bothered her the first time he had lifted her like she was a small child or a toddler, but now it was so soothing and she gripped his duster jacket tightly. She heard him push the chair in behind him, only one arm tucked under her small bum, curling her to his side. The rest after that was a blur as he carried her up to his second apartment above the shop and laid her on the spare futon he’d added solely for her. She felt her boots and headphones come off, her little bag being removed before a pillow was adjusted under her hair, and then tucked in with a black, gray and army green blanket that she knew had a gecko on it. 

She stayed there for the rest of the day, silently crying and heart torn asunder. Every few hours, Iwai would come up to check on her. He’d called Sojiro to tell him she’d passed out again and he’d take her home later. She could faintly hear their ‘dad talk’, and it only made her head hurt. She could feel the old pain throb within her. It made it all worse. Eventually, she fell asleep. 

* * *

It had been another month until she found the information and details she would need. Iwai had gone through the folder on the tablet for her. And she knew from the raising of his brows and the red on his neck that she _did not_ need to see what her mother had hidden. It was… like walking in on parents…

She needed confirmation though, so she had sent anonymous requests, and Takemi had volunteered to assist her. Now, she was just awaiting the results. She hated waiting.

* * *

She walked into the facility with her nerves yelling at her to _run away_ , but Iwai had his hand on her shoulder and kept her moving forward. He was wearing a suit for this, all blacks and grays. She was dressed in green and black, her long orange hair pulled up in a half braided updo, mostly thanks to Makoto. She was terrified, but she _needed_ this. 

“You can do this, kiddo.” Iwai’s voice was a soothing balm to her frayed nerves. 

They were guided into a private, small meeting room, and she pulled out her mobile laptop to hack into the hospital’s system and turn off the video/audio recording for the room. She refused to allow anyone know what was about to be discussed.

“You’re paranoid.” Iwai said from beside her, and she merely glared at him. She was in a black t-shirt dress, over dark green leggings, with a long green knit sweater jacket. Sweet and innocent was the look she needed for the people watching to get inside. She was there under a false name, but had all her real documentation with her.

It was barely ten minutes before the door was opened and the patient she was there to see was escorted into the room. He lacked the broad shoulders, the high definition he had last time she’d seen him on the news. And as she adjusted her glasses, she noted how he was slightly pale. Trying to keep a straight face, and anger from her voice, she waited for the doctor and nurse to enter. _I’ll get Takemi on his health._

“May I ask why a child like you wishes to see the ex-Prime Minister?” The doctor’s voice was condescending, sneering as he looked down at her and she could feel that familiar ‘creepy shadow’ feeling from him. The Metaverse was gone… or Mementos was gone, but their phones lost the app to access it if it was still around. She still remembered her Persona, felt it tingle in her head to give warnings.

“I have personal connections to his crime victims. I want to know some things.” She kind of sounded like a mix of Sojiro in a grumpy mood, and her mother in her rank pulling tone. It was no surprise really, with how many years Sojiro had been present and loving in her life to sound like him at times. Though, her research and Takemi had answered where her temper and cold shoulder treatments could come from.

“I still do not think you really have a place to speak here. You are wasting time. My patient has important questions to answer.” She watched the patient’s jaw and neck muscles clench as the doctor’s hand came to rest on his shoulder. And suddenly, _she knew_ , that this worthless piece of shit masquerading as a doctor was aware of the Metaverse.

“We will be the judge of that.” Iwai stood up then, saving her from blowing her cool. She looked up at him, remembering to play innocent as he channeled his old family rank to get the unwelcome people from the room. She observed the patient before her, as Iwai spoke to the doctor, nurse and orderlies, and felt her heart ache.

One year ago today, Akira had walked into Leblanc and changed her life forever. Had saved her life. They had gained, grown, and lost so much in that one year. And so much of it revolved around the man before her. It _hurt_. It hurt her heart, her head and her soul.

Once Iwai _finally_ got the assholes to leave, he stood with his back to the wall behind her. She knew he could move and grab the patient before her if anything happened, and that gave her strength.

“Do you know who I am?” She had her files, her laptop, and her mom’s pad out on the table.

“No. I did not recognize the name.” She noticed that his glasses were missing. He also barely looked up at her, his eyes slightly downcast and head hung in shame. This man was so different from what she last saw. It honestly made her worry over some of the others. She would have to talk to Makoto and Sae about it later.

“Where are your glasses?” She asked him, causing him to look up at her. His eyes were so dull, no longer dark and demented or cocky. He wasn’t healthy, and it was not all his guilt and conscience weighing him down.

“...”

“Can you see me clearly?” She asked instead.

“Yes. I mostly need them for near and reading.” His voice was a little sturdier, discussing something so incredibly mundane.

“Same.” She replied, then moved to pull out a glasses case from her bag. Something had told her to find them, _just in case_ , and now she was glad she had. “Here. I found your prescription and bought these for you. There is much to discuss and read, I need you to have your eyesight."

“... Thank you.” He reached across and opened the case, his eyes going wide at the perfect copy of his glasses.

“I saw you on TV often enough that I remembered the style you preferred.” She offers, in explanation as he pulls them on. Then, she pulled out unopened bottles of water and Tylenol. “Here, I know from experience the headache prescriptions give.”

“... Why are you here? And kind? Surely you know of my crimes?” His voice is soft, still elegant, but broken. She finds that she hates it worse than when it was cocky, arrogant and egotistical.

“I do not merely _know_ of your crimes. I’m a personal _victim_ of your crimes. But, there are answers I must have.” She replied, pulling the long damned false suicide letter. Apparently, her uncle had taken and kept it. A part of his uncorrupted heart had badgered him over it enough to keep it all these years. “Do you recognize this?”

She watched him as he read it, watched his micro expressions like Sae and Iwai had taught her. She felt her heart pounding as one of his hands touched the paper, slightly shaking. His jaw clenched, a nerve at his temple twitched and his throat muscles flexed. She remembered those signs of his temper, his rage.

“No. I have never seen this before now… I… did _not_ do this.” She found her Persona flickering in her soul. A bond forging between her and the man before her. _He was telling the truth!_ She felt like crying. And, all her pain and regret over the loss of life… she _would_ be telling the team about this discovery. She wished they could go back and she could watch Makoto pummel the asshole to a pulp. Maybe also watch Ann with that whip of hers.

“This was given to Isshiki Wakaba’s daughter, read aloud to her at her mother’s funeral. In front of her mother’s family. ‘Maternal psychosis’, also known as postpartum depression, and her daughter was made to believe her mother would rather kill herself than be burdened with her existence.” She watched him as his eyes widened, narrowed and he sucked his teeth. He was pissed.

“The child surely was corrected of this absurd notion. Sakura would not have allowed anything otherwise.” She blinked at the mention of Sojiro. There was confidence, the sure tone of someone stating simple facts, and a tad hint of jealousy and resignation.

“The child was moved from family member to family member for about a year before Sakura found her starving on the floor of her uncle’s home. He had no knowledge of this ‘suicide note’, and thought her safe with family. He did work a very busy job, after all.” She explained, speaking as passively as possible. This _hurt so much_.

“... _Fuck_.” The curse word made her startle. It wasn’t a word they’d heard from him in the Palace, and it would’ve _never_ been spoken on TV. “... How is…. how is the child now?”

She weighed her options. She could reveal herself, or lie. She _had_ been on the brink of death when Akira and the others had healed her heart. But… she wouldn't be so cruel. Instead, she pulled out her mother’s pad and turned it towards him. Watched as his eyes widened. She could see the pulse in his throat, the faint twitch of his fingers. She had Iwai have _that folder_ opened. She wanted to watch him.

“Unlock it.” She instructed him. Then watched as his other hand came up to lift the pad slightly and tapped in the unlock code. The slight intake of air, the light flush up his neck and softening of his eyes told her all she needed to know. She felt the _bond_ inch forward again. Her Persona was analyzing and taking in all the information she couldn’t fully focus on at the moment. Her computer was recording it all though. She would be able to go back through it all once home again.

She watched him flick through the pictures. Iwai had given her very light notes, with things like ‘picture five is tender, her stomach being kissed’ or ‘picture fifteen is a never for your eyes’. So, she counted every flip. Thinking and comparing Iwai’s notes with the man’s reactions. There was a picture in the forties that Iwai had told her was sweet and he’d move it into another folder once they were done here. He had only said something about ‘parental love’ and that she would know once the man before her got there.

When her mental count hit 42, she watched as his eyes softened and he smiled at the image. She recognized that smile. It was the same one she and Akira got from Sojiro, and the same one Iwai would give Kaoru. _It really really hurts_.

“Did you know Akechi Goro was your son?” She asked as he sent the screen to darkness and slid it back to her.

“... I had a suspicion. But I was never contacted about having a son anywhere. He was too eager and too temperamental at times. Often like a child throwing a tantrum.” She couldn’t resist the snort that escaped her, and she clapped a hand over her mouth and nose, remembering Morgana saying _the exact same thing_. She’d agreed with the cat-creature, but had never voiced it aloud.

“...” She was quiet, feeling the bond deepen again. She wondered how Akira had been able to manage all the bonds he had made. She only had a few.

“I’m sorry just… one of my friends told him the very same thing once.” She sighed, her hands tugged at the hem of her dress. “Where is your muscle mass? You don’t look like a natural weight drop would.”

“...”

“Are they hurting you?” She felt a tinge of anger. Her Persona itched.

“...”

“What was the child’s name?” She asked instead. Changing the topic when she realized he wasn’t going to speak of his treatment here.

“I named her Futaba.” She blinked. Then blinked again. _She would kill Akechi_ … if he wasn’t already dead. “Wakaba and I argued for every day of the nine months until she gave birth. I finally won the argument as I sat in the hospital room, with my daughter on my chest. Wakaba said her natural glare at everyone around her was my doing, so I could. She would keep the girl under her own name, however. She had gone through a rough several hours, and I did not argue.”

She’d asked Sojiro once, who had named her, and he hadn’t known, so he wasn’t able to tell her. Now she knew. _Though why am I so small?_ Sometimes her brain was weird.

“... Where is Akechi?” His voice held an odd lack of care, but a strong level of curiosity.

“...”

Why is it still painful if he probably killed her mother of his own accord? “He… he died.”

“... Oh. I… see.” There was regret in his tone yes, but not deep care. “You are growing to suspect Akechi killed Isshiki himself?”

“... Yes.” Sighing, she turned to her bag again. Pulling out a small container of food, placing it on the table, pushing it over to him, and followed by chopsticks. “Please eat while I look into something."

“... Thank you.”

It was quiet as she typed on her laptop, researching and hacking. Trying to follow the trail from her mother to Akechi. The man before her was finished eating and sitting with his glasses off, eyes closed and arms crossed loosely across his chest in a light doze when her searching pinged and she had her answer. _Yes, Akechi had killed her mother, with a text of language that sounded like him… like Medjed, orders to read that fake suicide letter._

Closing her eyes, tugging on her bond with Iwai to grant her fortitude, she pulled up the Thieves chat thread. All of the team still actively used it. It was a Sunday, she knew they would all reply instantly.

**Futaba:** We have a PROBLEM! I’m PISSED OFF

**Ann:** What’s wrong, Futaba?

**Ryuji:** Are you ok?!

**Makoto:** What happened? Is it Boss? You?

**Akira:** Morgana and I also want that answer. Are you ok, sis?

**Yusuke:** Are you ok?

**Haru:** Do I need to sue someone?

She loved her friends, truly. 

**Futaba:** I just found out Shido DID NOT kill my mom! It was AKECHI!

A second later, instead of getting reply texts, her phone started buzzing as everyone tried calling her all at once. Watching the man dozing across from her, she moved from her chair to sit on the couch by Iwai. 

**Futaba:** No yelling when I pick up my phone.

She answered the group call slowly, worrying Ann or Ryuji would still yell despite her instruction not to. But, thankfully it was subdued and Makoto’s voice greeted her first.

“What do you mean Shido was not behind your mother’s death?” Makoto questioned, varying sounds of concurring noises behind her.

“I… I’m here speaking to him.” She took a few silent pictures of the sleeping man and sent them over through the chat.

“... He doesn’t look so good…” Ann’s kind heart would forever soothe her soul.

“Futaba… please explain.” Akira’s voice was strained with worry. And so, she very lightly explained needing answers to what all happened, and how she had Iwai. She left out the _he’s my father_ parts.

“... We _mourned_ that bastard.” Ryuji’s voice was a low growl.

“I’d love to beat him up.” Morgana’s voice sounded, angry and protective.

“I thought, when he was a pawn that I could forgive him. That maybe it would simply take time to cope, but… he deserved worse than he got. We should’ve acted faster to save him, then tie him in that ship and _let him drown._ ” Haru’s voice was _scary_.

“... I am now terrified.” Yusuke’s voice chimed amidst the others’ sudden silence.

“I’m scaroused.” Ryuji replied after a few beats. Causing Ann to giggle.

“Why does he look so unhealthy though? That is _not_ normal weight loss.” Ann’s concerned voice rose up again.

“I agree.” Ryuji chimed in, followed by humming and agreeing noises.

“My gut prickled when his doctor was in here. He tensed and flinched, his throat muscles pulled when the condensing asshole touched his shoulder.” She explained.

“... You believe he knows.” Akira’s voice was firm, cold, and calculating. _Hello Joker._

“What’s the vote?” Morgana’s voice raised up into the thoughtful silence.

“...”

“We help him. We _did not_ fight Yaldabaoth for this to continue. I will tell Sae at dinner tonight, she’s on her way home now.” Makoto’s voice eased her nerves.

“I agree to this request.” Yusuke replied.

“Yeah! We had to dress in bikinis for that poolside pervert! We can’t allow that yacht to reappear.” Ann insisted.

“I concur. That TV executive _still_ makes my blood boil.” Haru added.

“How do we do this top-side though?” Ryuji poses a good question.

“Leave that to us!” Morgana’s happy voice chimed in.

“I will try to contact Igor and Lavenza.” Akira added.

“Thank you, all of you.”

* * *

Futaba was back sitting at the table in her chair, the empty food container and her mother’s tablet back in her bag, when the man before her shifted and slightly stretched.

“My apologies.”

“You needed it.” She took a deep breath and sighed. “Masayoshi Shido, you are a horrible human being. But… you _did not_ have my mother killed, and the Phantom Thieves never leave a case unfinished. Though, we _thought_ we had. … We _mourned_ Akechi. I _forgave_ him. All while thinking it had been on _your orders_.”

“...” He sat up straighter, eyes slightly wide as he took her in. Actually looking at her for the first time. “Futaba..? Does Sojiro know you’re here?”

“No, Dad doesn’t know.” She saw him wince, but a nod followed. No jealousy, just resign to the fact.

“You are a Phantom Thief?” He asked, curious, thoughtful, and a look of worry mixed with fear. The fear look made her awkwardly cackle.

“... Yes. You must cease talking or cooperating with that doctor. I know that he’s aware of Cognitive Pscience from the way you interact. We will be seeing to your… something. But, you must eat and regain your health. Here is a way to contact me.” She handed over what appeared to be a simple corded necklace with a ship’s mast pendant. “I always plan ahead!”

“How will this contact you?”

“There’s a button…” She moved around the table and showed him, then put it around his neck and locked the clasp in place. “Keep it safe, and keep it hidden.”

“Your hearts are too good.”

“... Akechi nearly killed me with that suicide letter. We thought it was all over after your Palace. But it’s not, and now we know. We don’t ignore these things.” She replied.

“... I used to be present… when you were young. You called me ‘Masa’ and would insist I play you in shogi or chess. Your mother nearly killed me the day she caught me teaching you card games.” She blinked, _she remembered that_.

“Hehehe…” Her mother had been busy at the lab, Sojiro had been working and so she had ended up at the home of the only other male friend her mother had. She was six or seven, hair still black and after finishing her school work, had slipped into his den. Bored, and completely uncaring of the other men in the room playing card games with him. The smell of smoke was nasty, and they had stopped when it became obvious that she wouldn’t be budging from her place in Masa’s lap. She couldn’t even _say_ his full name back then. His playing buddies had been so shocked he’d allowed the name. Then, long after they had left, he sat in sweatpants and a t-shirt on the floor teaching her how to play poker and count cards. “Mom was _soooo mad_.”

“She was even angrier when Sojiro and I allowed your hair…” He vaguely gestured, and she giggled again.

“.... Did I… have you both ‘wrapped around my finger’?”

“Yes. Even more than your mother. … I’m terribly sorry for what I became, Futaba. And I’m sorry my actions harmed you so deeply. That you had to steal my heart.” She hugged him then, tightly and she could remember his scent.

The next day, she woke up to a text from Akira, and a blue eyed app on her phone.

**Joker:** We’re back. 


	2. Daddy's Girl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Futaba has answers, and has an old memory manifest.

She was excited, her dads— _yes that’s what she thought of them as!!_ —had somehow come to agreement for _once in their lives_ , and she was going to get to dye her hair! She had wanted to for _weeks_ now, her mother telling her ‘no’ or ‘not now’. It was the ‘not now’ and ‘I’m too busy’ responses she had used on Masa and Sojiro to break down and get the dye for her. Apparently, Sojiro had bought the dye and Masa knew how to get it to last. For a _bald man_ that was funny.

She walked happily from school. Her arms behind her, her bag over her back and head only slightly in the clouds. Masa— _Masayoshi—_ according to his card mates, _psaha_! Was getting busier lately, he had entered a political sphere of the government, and Sojiro worked two tasks: the Kojiro Group and… something else. She wasn’t entirely sure. What she _was_ sure of, however, was that while the men _did not get along_ they did all they could for her.

Sojiro was a good cook, always making curry and coffee, or ramen… anything she wanted to eat really. He was full of trivia and an understanding of people. A cheesy flirt though. He thought he was smooth, she thought he was a goober, Masa hated it, and her mom would ever so slightly melt at his attempts.

Masayoshi, on the other hand, _could not cook_ . That is why he hired people, or ordered food out. He was devilish, wild, arrogant, a cocky flirt and would play people to see his point of view. It wasn’t as bad as that sounded though. But, that wasn’t the side of him that she saw. She got the lounge clothes, card games—kept secret from her mother, _scary!!_ —shogi, chess, lessons on politics, help in social studies, extra help with school funds, and a steady supply for her technology addiction.

She was bullied a lot because of it. Absentee seeming mom, expensive things. _Unwanted_. The asshole brats would call her. Some of the teachers too. She knew she could tell the three adults about it. She was seeing Masa today actually… and she was sure his temper would flare the very second he saw the bruise on her cheek.

That was another difference in how the two men showed their care over her. Sojiro would dote and grow sweet, Masa’s muscles would flex and his eyes would grow to a deep darkness. If she hadn’t seen him shirtless once or twice, seen the unblemished skin, she’d insist the man was yakuza. They were both smart too, and had to be to be friends with her mom.

Masa dying her hair for her was a blast! He knew her mom would be mad at him, and normally he would care and tell her no, and he’d almost changed his mind too… then he saw the mark on her cheek and cut from a ring… She was sure that her homeroom teacher would be fired within the week. She was Masayoshi Shido’s little _miko_ and _no one_ harmed his things.

* * *

She had been right of course, about her homeroom teacher being fired, what she _had not_ expected however, was the very loud argument that broke out between Masa and her mom the day she found out about it all. She had been at his house again, in her room doing homework and updating his computer, thinking about the plan to meet up with Sojiro—who would kidnap her mother if need be—for Futaba’s birthday dinner that night, when the sound of raised voices filtered through her headphones.

“You can’t keep doing this, Masayoshi! You’re teaching her that if she doesn’t like someone that they can simply be discarded! And don’t you dare think I’ve forgiven you for allowing her to dye her hair!” _But… her mom had laughed and said it was cute…?_

“I didn’t report the incident to the school for Futaba telling me she didn’t like the woman! I reported it because she came home with a cut on her cheek and a smack mark! Also: you said it was cute!” She could hear things slam. She slowly snuck out of her room and down the hall to the door of his study. Where he did his office work.

“I… I wasn’t told that… and besides, I told her no! I didn’t want her dying her hair yet! It… yes it is cute and oddly suits her…”

“Then you were misinformed, and why is it an issue? You already made her dye it over. I don’t understand you.”

“I am doing the best for _my daughter_!”

“...”

“You think because you buy her nice things that makes you her father? Because it _doesn’t_ Shido! You’re not there. Buying her affections…” Something broke, sounding like glass."

“I do _not_ buy my daughter’s affections!” _He was her dad?!_

“She _IS NOT_ your daughter! She is MINE! She has my name and I don’t agree with what you’re teaching her. It’s over, Shido.” She stifled a gasp as something else broke.

“... What… are you saying?”

“I’m saying I’m tired of you going behind my back and constantly pampering her with your money. She is my child, not yours. And she’ll not be returning.”

_She wanted to cry!_

“Wa… Wakaba don’t _do this_ to me! Why are you doing this?”

“She cackles, she has a temper. You’re infecting her…”

“You are _NEVER_ around, and if you _actually paid attention…_ ” _Smack!!_

* * *

* * *

She wakes up startled, a half cry on her lips. Iwai is on the floor nearby, working on new model designs for them and looks up at her.

“You alright kiddo?”

She shakes her head no. She had forgotten those years. That day when her mother had stormed into her room, grabbed only a few of her things and dragged her out, back home. She had drowned out the memory. The yelling, the mark on Masayoshi’s cheek, and the discovery that the stern man that pampered her so _lovingly_ was in fact her father.

“What’s the matter?”

She knew, _just knew_ , from her research and digging that Shido started to get ruthless. Going after laws on kids, families, that he started to spiral.

“Futaba?”

Was it because of her?

“Futaba!” Iwai was in front of her, sitting next to her on the futon in his apartment. “What’s wrong?”

“... Nightmare.”

“You gonna elaborate?”

How could she? She didn’t have the words.

“... I think my mom broke Shido’s heart and that’s why he… turned into what he was.” She can barely get it out. “... they fought over me.”

She doesn’t think of it anymore as she is pulled into Iwai’s embrace and stays there. 

…. The next day, the news reports the death of Shido in custody. And her mind shatters. And she’s back in her Palace. 

**Author's Note:**

> I love and adore Futaba for so many reasons, too many to actually explain. With that said, this was a character exploration of sorts and while I hope it is not ooc, I do not regret exploring this in the manner that I did.


End file.
